Laurels Are Poison

‘Thank you, madam.’ He rose as Miss du Mugne rang the bell.

‘Get someone to take the inspector over to Athelstan Hall, Miss Rosewell, please.’

Miss Rosewell, whose neat, adult appearance and sophisticated, finished manner concealed the average share of childish curiosity, took him herself, and adroitly learned the facts which he had just committed to the Principal’s guardianship. As all the newspapers would have them in the morning, this signified very little.

The sight of Lulu’s black face and happy grin seemed to surprise the inspector, but, reassured by his companion’s unperturbed explanation of his business, he took off his hat, and, carefully wiping his boots, followed her into the hall, where both females immediately deserted him, Lulu to find Mrs Bradley, the secretary to return to College.

‘The police?’ said Mrs Bradley. ‘Very well. Show them in.’

‘Him, Mis’ Bradley.’

‘Him, then.’

‘Mrs Castle was cook at this establishment until last Saturday morning,’ she told the inspector. ‘She left, at my request, with a week’s wages in lieu of notice and a good reference.’

‘We found the reference, madam. That’s why, to be frank, and knowing of you from up above, so to speak, we suspect murder, and not suicide.’

‘Dear me! That was very careless of somebody,’ said Mrs Bradley. ‘No question of accident, inspector?’

‘Well, it might be, madam. But what would she have been doing, wandering down there at night? Time of death proves quite a lot, you see. She went in off Caddy Old Bridge, we reckon. It comes as a kind of a funny business after the disappearance of the other lady who was in charge here before the holidays. You’ve heard about that, of course?’

Mrs Bradley said that she had, but added no comment, so the inspector set to work on his ‘check-up’, as he called it, requiring minute details as to the reasons for Cook’s having been dismissed, the time she had left the house, her probable destination and any other information which could be supplied.

It was at the end of this interview, and whilst the inspector was questioning the servants, one by one, that Mrs Bradley telephoned Miss Cartwright.

‘Golly,’ said that lady, when she was sent for to receive the message, ‘the balloon’s gone up at last!’

Mrs Bradley received her very kindly.

‘Ah, Miss Cartwright! Now, dear child, that bath you took on the night the ghost walked. You remember?’

Miss Cartwright gurgled, blushed slightly, and replied that she remembered.

‘Good. Who suggested that you should have it?’

‘Nobody. That’s to say, I often have one down there after hours.’

‘In Miss Murchan’s time, too?’

‘Oh, yes. I — I had a key cut’

‘Have you ever had reason to suppose that the maids entertained nocturnal visitors without the knowledge of the head of the house?’

‘No, of course not. Anyway, I shouldn’t give away the maids.’

‘None of that nonsense,’ said Mrs Bradley firmly. ‘Your answer is no, is it?’

‘Certainly.’

‘And it is the truth? Don’t bluff me.’

‘Yes, it’s the truth — except for this last time.’

‘That’s better. Listen, student.’ Miss Cartwright flinched before the brilliant black eyes and nervously crossed her fingers. ‘Cook is dead — drowned. The police are here. They are anxious to hear about this bath of yours. Take my advice, and be perfectly frank. Don’t hide anything. I may say that there is no breach of the rules of this Hall, so far as I am aware, in your choosing to take a bath at two o’clock in the morning, or at any other time, so do not hesitate upon that score. Authority is not involved. On the other hand, Cook’s death is a very serious affair indeed. How much noise does the water make, running out of those downstair baths?’

Mrs Bradley did not wait for a reply. She patted Miss Cartwright kindly upon the shoulder, picked up the house telephone, and informed Bella, the head maid, since promoted to cook, that she was at liberty whenever the inspector was ready, and also that she had another witness for him.

‘I don’t — I don’t know anything except about having the baths, you know,’ said Miss Cartwright, now thoroughly cowed and frightened.

‘That is all the inspector will want to know about,’ said Mrs Bradley gently. ‘Now, sit down, my dear child, and we will get Lulu to bring us some coffee and a biscuit.’

Deborah’s share in the inquiry was limited to two answers. Where had she been, the inspector inquired, on the nights of the previous Sunday and Monday, and had she seen or spoken to Mrs Castle after the cook had left College employment?

Deborah, astonished by both questions, answered composedly that (a) she supposed she had been in bed and (b) that certainly she had not.

The inspector appeared to be satisfied by these replies, and then consented to interview Miss Cartwright.

‘Baths at two in the morning, miss? Was that allowed?’

‘Yes, apparently. I mean, nobody objected!’

‘But why in the servants’ bathroom, miss?’